


Take Me Out to the Ball Game

by pullingbeckettspigtails



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-22 10:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4832801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pullingbeckettspigtails/pseuds/pullingbeckettspigtails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castle is asked to do the first pitch, and his wife helps him practice. Prompted by anonymous on Tumblr who wanted a fic based on photos of Stana's first pitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Out to the Ball Game

**Author's Note:**

> A forewarning of sorts: I am from England and we don’t have baseball here, we play rounders instead (or at least - typically - girls do, boys play cricket). According to Google they are quite similar, but not exactly, so sorry if I mess anything up!
> 
> Photo I'm referring to: https://41.media.tumblr.com/0a49baf84e4db813f905c9dad067114b/tumblr_nuxr1eFmh31u0y56uo1_400.png

“Kate?”

She looked up from her iPad to see her husband shuffling out of their home office, his brunette hair mussed up, presumably from him frustratingly and constantly running his hands through it as he wrote.

“Can I ask you something?” Rick questioned as he approached slowly.

Device now placed on the coffee table, Kate bent her legs that were originally stretched out over the couch cushions, allowing him room to sit.

“Since when do you ask to ask something?” She teased as he sat down, placing her legs atop of his lap. Instead of a chuckle, she was met with an apprehensive look as his eyebrows knitted together. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

Castle took his eyes off his partner and instead glared at the floor as he began to speak, “I got an email from Gina, I’ve been offered to do the first pitch for the Dodgers versus Pirates game when we go to LA to promote Driving Heat.”

Beckett sat up straight with a gasp, “Castle, that’s amazing!”

He let out a loud sigh.

“But… you don’t want to do it?” She guessed, trying to understand.

“No, I do. It’s just…” He brought his gaze to hers, “remember the Cano Vega murder?” She nodded. “You and Espo both said that you’d been going to games since you were kids. Your Dad started taking you when you were three, right?” She nodded once more, always impressed by his knowledge of her. “I never had that.”

Kate nodded solemnly as she began to comprehend, wrapping her hand around his gently, delighting in the small smile he sent her way before he continued, “I never played sports at school either, I always read or wrote instead. And now…” Another sigh escaped.

“You don’t know how to pitch.” Kate finished for him.

“I figured if I ever had a another child, I would have to learn along with them. I took Alexis to a Yankees game once, just to see if she’d like it, but she was more into dance and horse-riding than any sports.”

Beckett smiled at the idea of Castle letting a little Alexis explore so many different hobbies until she found the one she enjoyed, and imagined him doing the same with their hypothetical child one day.

“So?” He said, cutting through her thoughts, “What should I do?”

Kate pursed her lips as she debated what advice to give. “What’s holding you back from doing it?”

A small silence filled the air of the loft as Rick pondered, then he answered, “The possible embarrassment, I guess? I’ve always acted like I don’t really care what people think of me, but imagine what sort of things would be said and posted about me if I do horribly.”

Kate felt a sense of melancholy at his words, knowing that other people’s impressions of him meant more to him than he let on. It was obvious as he would always scour the internet after his latest book had been released, reading every review that was posted, and scroll through Twitter as soon as he was off the air when he did interviews.

“But other than that, you want to give it a go?” She prompted.

The corners of his lips upturned slightly, “I mean, yeah. It could be fun. And a great story to tell.” His eyes reclaimed a glimmer of colour.

“Then, you’ll do it.”

Instantly, his mood dropped again. “But how?”

“Like you said, I’ve been going to games since I was a kid. And I was on the baseball team in high school.” She stated, seeing his eyes narrow at her, as if questioning why he didn’t know this piece of information before. “So, I’ll teach you.”

“Really?” He perked up, his teeth flashing as he grinned.

Kate nodded enthusiastically, “I’ll even dig out my Mets jersey and my old baseball glove.”

Rick’s smile turned into a smirk, “You’ll be wearing just those two items? Not sure how much learning I’ll be doing if that’s the case.”

A scoff was about to leave her lips, but his quickly covered hers instead, and that marked the end of any coherent conversation.

* * *

 On Saturday night – Castle refused to go during the daylight, too worried that anyone would recognise him – the two were alone in a small ballpark, donned in track pants and baggy shirts.

After setting their belongings down, Kate walked a few steps away from Rick, then turned to face him.

“Okay,” She said, holding out her gloved hand, “Hit me.”

“This close?” Castle replied, worry etching his features.

His partner nodded, “For starters, yeah.”

Castle shrugged, and easily threw the ball into the glove, slightly proud of himself when it travelled in a straight line, even if the distance was only a few metres.

“Okay, we have a problem.”

His eyebrows shot up, “What? What did I do?”

“You threw underhand.”

“And that’s not allowed?” He asked.

Kate hummed in response before answering, “You can, but you won’t get the power behind it, or much speed.” She saw Castle’s face drooping slightly and instantly felt sympathy, “It’s alright, babe, let’s try again. We have all night.”

She threw the ball back to him gently, but even then he fumbled with the item and dropped it at his feet. Kate scrunched her eyes closed. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

 After almost two hours of too-short and too-weak pitches, Castle groaned loudly and retreated to a nearby white bench, instantly shivering as the cold metal seemed to seep through his clothing. His eyes were cast downwards, and didn’t move at all when he saw a pair of sneakers appear in front of him.

Kate sat down next to him and placed a caring hand on his back, “You’re getting better.” She said quietly.

“I’m not though, am I?” He huffed, pouting like a child.

“Okay, you’re not progressing in leaps and bounds, but I’ve moved back two steps.” She confessed.

“So? You’re still half the distance away that I will be from the other guy on the day. I should’ve said no.”

“Hey, look at me,” When he failed to do so, Kate lifted a palm up to his cheek and gently tilted his head towards her. It broke her heart to see that his blue eyes were shining with water, “Remember what you told me at Willow Creek when I thought our wedding day was falling apart?”

“Hmm?”

“You told me how all great love stories have obstacles to overcome. And terrible trials only the worthy can transcend.”

For the first time in the night, he let out a laugh, “Me learning to pitch is a ‘terrible trial’?”

A chuckle escaped her throat too, “Okay, so I might be exaggerating. But come on. You’ve overcome so many things. You’ve escaped death countless times, your first book got rejected by so many publishers before it got picked up, you’ve saved peoples’ lives, brought killers to justice. And I swear to God, Richard Castle, you are  _not_  going to let a fucking  _ball_  get the best of you.”

He laughed once more, and leant forward to press a kiss to her lips. Seconds later, their lips parted, but they didn’t, their foreheads resting together as each-other’s warm breath hit their faces, a contrast from the cool air.

“That was some speech,” He teased with a smirk.

“When you’re a Captain, you need to know how to deliver a good pep talk.” She replied with a joking lilt to her voice.

They stayed silent for a moment, before Castle spoke once more, though only in a whisper, “You’re going to be a great Mom one day.”

Kate broke apart from him and stood up immediately, walking back to where she was catching the ball, hoping that he won’t spot the blush that appeared on her cheeks and the tears that welled up in her eyes at the simple statement.

He did.

She could tell from the grin on his face.

“Come on, writer-boy.” She goaded, crouching down once more, “Show me what you got.”

* * *

 

When Castle walked into the almost packed Dodgers stadium, he felt a fluttering of nerves and a sense of dread at the same time. His wife must’ve been able to tell, as she lifted a hand to his bicep and squeezed in support. The action made him look over to her, and that was enough to make giddiness overtake the fear.

She was donned completely in white and blue, from her Dodgers cap to her white Converse. His favourite part of her attire was her shirt. When they’d arrived at the stadium, they’d both had gifts awaiting them, two matching jerseys with ‘Castle’ sprawled on the back in blue letters: the smaller one with the number seventeen underneath, the bigger with the number one. And now, they’re both unashamedly wearing them.

He couldn’t stop looking over at Beckett, who was glancing up at the big screen with her mouth gaped open in awe, hazel eyes shining in the bright lights.

“Mr Castle, we’re almost ready, are you?” A voice interrupted and suddenly he wasn’t ready at all.

“He is.” Kate answered on behalf of him, biting down on her lower lip to suppress a laugh when she heard her husband let out a squeak that sounded vaguely like  _‘what?!’_

The man walked away, happy with this information, and Kate stood directly in front of Castle.

“You  _are_  ready. We’ve spent practically every waking moment together practicing.”

And it’s true. Whilst they were still in New York, they’d adapted the habit of tossing a ball to each other during menial tasks, such as cooking together or watching television. The routine had continued in Los Angeles, even as they got scolded by airport security at LAX and broke a vase in their hotel room.

He let out a shaky exhale, “Promise you won’t divorce me if I make a fool of myself.”

“Come on, babe, you’re being ridiculous,” She said. He nodded with gratitude until she spoke again, “I’d definitely just run away and move to Croatia without you.”

He opened his mouth to rebut, but was interrupted by his name echoing over the loud speakers. Beckett simply raised up to her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his pouting lips.

“Knock ‘em dead, babe.” She enthused, “I’ll be right here cheering you on.”

He gave her one last nervous smile, then headed to the centre of the field.

He’s glad there wasn’t a microphone on him, because the triumphant noise that he made was definitely not masculine in any way.

But he did it.

It might have been a little wide, but it doesn’t matter because the player caught it and he  _did it._

As soon as he was off the field, Kate sprinted up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, letting out a similar squeal to the one he had a minute ago as he lifted her off the ground, kicking her legs.

“You did it!” She exclaimed, repeating the same notion that’s been circling in his head.

Once he put her down, she immediately pushed her lips to his. And that’s how he had known he’d done well. His wife has never been one for any PDA, but she obviously didn’t care as she showed him how proud she was, even though they were both aware of the camera flashes next to them.

* * *

 

“Oh my God!” Kate shouted, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen in the cab, making both Rick and the driver jump.

“What?”

“Look at this photo of me!”

She thrust her phone in front of him, the screen showing a photo of her standing on the side-lines, a clenched fist in front of her face as she leant back, her neck flexing as she tightened her muscles in anticipation. Castle let out a huge guffaw, before coughing to attempt to mask it. She half-heartedly slapped his bare arm.

“It’s not funny!” She argued, moving to snatch her phone back, but Rick caught her hand between both of his.

“You’re adorable!” He replied, entranced by the shot.

“How the hell is  _that_  adorable? I look like a… slug or something!”

“An adorable slug.”

The glare she gave him did nothing to eradicate his happiness.

“Come on,” He said, “You look like a nervous Mom watching her kid play for the first time. It’s endearing.”

She scoffed, “If that’s what I’m going to look like on a regular basis, our kids are never playing baseball.”

“But now I know how to pitch! I can play with them!” Rick said with pride laced in his voice.

The image of her husband running around bases with one kid chasing him and another younger one on his hip is enough to make her reconsider.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback makes me smile :)
> 
> Lou xo


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